


Team bonding for beginners.

by abbylabby



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: Carly and Marcy are highkey in love, Gen, I'm so sorry, Philip has a lot of feelings, Philip is lowkey in love with Trevor, Philip pov, i don't know what to tell you, indulgent team bonding, pet owner problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 17:57:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13506798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbylabby/pseuds/abbylabby
Summary: Philip picked up a piece of lettuce and pushed it into the turtle's face.The turtle wasn't having any of it. She turned her entire body around and started waddling off.“Poppy! No! Bad girl!”, Philip dropped the lettuce and scrambled after her.





	Team bonding for beginners.

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely indulgent and a bit light on plot.  
> I just wanted them all to have a nice time together.  
> They didn't quite work with me the way I wanted them to, but what can you do.  
> This is set somewhere in season 1, when times were easier and less stressful. (looking at you, season 2 finale)  
> I apologize for ooc-ness, this is my first foray into Travelers fic.

The last rays of the afternoon sun were filtering in through the half shuttered windows.  
Dust particles were floating in the air, moving with a sense of serenity not shared by Philip.  
He was lying on his stomach on the concrete floor.  
His head was pillowed on his forearms and his face was a mask of concentration.  
“Look”, he said in a stern tone of voice. “You're being very unreasonable about this.”  
The turtle in front of him paid him no mind. Steadfastly refusing to touch any of the assorted fruits and vegetables on the ground in front of her.  
“You have to eat something” he continued.  
Philip picked up a piece of lettuce and pushed it into the turtle's face.  
The turtle wasn't having any of it. She turned her entire body around and started waddling off.  
“Poppy! No! Bad girl!”, Philip dropped the lettuce and scrambled after her. 

Carly gave a snort, from where she was sitting at the computer. She was doing research and hadn't left her chair for several hours. Philip had forgotten all about her.  
“Just leave her be.” she told him. When she saw his defiant expression, her eyes softened.  
“Look. I know it's hard. But she'll eat when she's hungry. It was the same with Jeffrey.” and with a nod that said 'this conversation is over', she turned back to her computer. 

Philip settled down on the ground again. His eyes followed Poppy's slow progress across the room.  
“Thanks, Carly.” he told her back.  
She gave him a thumbs up, but didn't look back from the screen.  
Poppy's tiny claws made quiet clicking sounds as she walked.  
She seemed to have not a care in the world. 

“Do you think she'd like a hug?” he wondered out loud.  
“Do turtles even know what hugs are? I mean. They don't have arms to hug with. Just feet. Imagine just having feet. Maybe you could hug someone with your feet? That would be awkward for a human for sure. I know I wouldn't want anyone's feet near me. Especially if they had claws.  
But hugs feel good. Maybe she would appreciate the sentiment? I want her to know she's loved.”  
Philip traced the cracks in the ground with his index finger, following the grooves with his nails, wondering if he would be able to file them down like that.  
“She's so little. What if she thinks I'm trying to eat her every time I pick her up? What if she thinks I'm a predator?” the thought was horrifying to him.  
“Philip!” Carly's fingers had stopped typing. She turned around halfway so she was facing him again. The fading sunlight hit her head from behind and gave her a glowing halo. He could tell she wasn't impressed with his musings. She seemed to be radiating annoyance.  
“Please. I'm trying to do something here. “ her voice was controlled, but there was a slight edge to it.  
Marcy liked to refer to it as the 'mom-voice'. It made Philip's chest feel tight.  
The thought of disappointing Carly felt viscerally wrong.  
“Sorry.” he mumbled, looking back down on the concrete floor.  
It was starting to get uncomfortable, but maybe that was what he deserved. He tried to make himself as small as he could. His breathing seemed too loud. The tension in the room seemed to close in on him.  
Then Carly turned back, resumed her typing and reality came rushing back in again.  
He felt like he could breathe a little easier again.  
He wanted to apologize again, but decided against it.  
Better not to risk drawing Carly's anger again.  
He focused on Poppy, who was still walking around, unfazed. She seemed happy enough.  
The floor was cold and hard. He could feel a couple of stones pricking into his chest.  
It became another thing for his mind to latch on: categorizing the ways in which he felt uncomfortable.  
Between that, the unpredictable rhythm of Carly's typing and Poppy's slow progress around the room, he entered an almost meditative state. 

Philip couldn't have said how much time had passed, when the sound of the metal doors opening cut through the comforting haze that had enveloped his mind.  
“What's this?” Marcy called out, pulling the door shut behind her.  
She immediately went into exasperated doctor mode, which was her very own mom-voice.  
“Philip. We talked about this, get up.” her heels clicked on the floor as she made her way closer. “Jesus. How long have you been lying there?”.  
He could hear her bustling around the room, taking off her coat and putting on the kettle, but it only barely registered since something amazing was happening in front of his very eyes.  
“She's doing it! She's really doing it!”, he announced to the room. He didn't take his eyes off Poppy who was happily munching on a slice of tomato.  
“She's what? Phil, seriously get up off the floor.”. Marcy had apparently finished her kitchenette business and moved over near him, because the next thing she did was gently poke him in the side with her foot.  
This brought him out of his reverie and with a parting pat to Poppy's shell, he began the process of hoisting his aching body off the ground.  
Marcy watched him, unimpressed. Her arms were crossed over her brightly coloured gingham dress.  
Her eyes wandered over to the turtle.  
“She's eating better than you” she remarked with a dry smile.  
It was only then that she noticed Carly's presence at the computer and awkwardly greeted her.  
“Carly. Shit. Sorry. Didn't see you there. Do you want a coffee? I just put the kettle on.”  
Carly waved her off, hardly looking away from the screen and mumbling a quick “no, thanks.”  
Philip stopped trying to rub some life back into his cramped up limbs.  
“She's busy” he told Marcy, trying to sounds as far from bitter as he could manage.  
Her pitying eyes said he'd failed.  
“Do you want a coffee?” she asked him, smile warm, always trying to steer his addiction down more manageable paths.  
He nodded, grateful for the sentiment. 

Marcy always did the comforting doctor thing of putting her hand on the shoulders of people she was talking to. Something about reassurance through physical contact.  
She went to do this now and recoiled in horror when it connected with the cold material of his shirt.  
“Jesus Christ, Phil. You're cold as ice!” she exclaimed, her hands roving over his chest, neck and finally grasping both his hands.  
She moved closer and he had no choice but to meet her eyes full on.  
“You really need to be more careful” she told him, her grey eyes big and sincere.  
“We talked about this”. And they had. Marcy worked so hard to keep him alive.  
He could feel guilt welling up in his chest.  
“We need you”, she continued and a tendril of pride joined the mix.  
His mouth turned up into a smile on it's own accord.  
Marcy rolled her eyes at him.

“Just sit down on the couch and have a coffee, dumbass. Doctor's orders.” she said, releasing his hands and pushing him in the direction of their large, ugly, second-hand couch.  
As Philip sank own onto the flowery print and had Marcy pull their ugly and mismatched plaid blankets over him, the doors of the Hideout were opened again.

Trevor hardly had time to put down his backpack, before Marcy was on him.  
“You have excellent timing”, she told him, as she dragged him over to the couch.  
“Phil's an idiot. Please sit with him and make sure he doesn't die? Thanks”.  
Trevor's six feet didn't stand a chance against Marcy's 5 foot something.  
His unresisting body was pushed onto the couch and the blankets rearranged so they cocooned both him and Philip nicely.  
Marcy went back to the kitchen area and left a dumbfounded Trevor in her wake, who was blinking slowly, as he came to grips with his new reality.  
His right side was pressed tightly to Philip's side, a reassuring warmth, and he was covered in unflattering green plaid.  
Philip couldn't help smiling at the ridiculousness of it all.  
Trevor smiled back easily.  
“Hi. So, you're living dangerous again?” he asked, crooked smile crinkling up his face.  
“Looks like it” Philip replied. He tried not to lean too much into Trevor, but Trevor was warm, the couch was comfortable, Marcy was fussing over him, Poppy was eating, Carly was not currently upset with him, he felt good.

Marcy was back only moments later, handing them each a mug before darting off again.  
“That's coffee with milk and sugar for you, Phil. And you Trevor, hot chocolate.”  
Trevor made a noise of protest, but Marcy cut him off.  
“You know the deal: no alcohol and no caffeine for you. I know you're old enough to be my grandfather...” “Great-grandfather, actually” Trevor cut in, petulantly.  
Marcy didn't break her stride. “Fine, whatever. You're old, we get it. Your body is still 17 though and you want it to grow up healthy.”  
She popped a mug down next to Carly, who was still typing away.  
She put a gently hand on Carly's shoulder and left her with a friendly but firm reminder to drink up.  
Carly briefly pressed Marcy's hand before turning her attention back to the screen. 

Marcy returned to the boys, carrying her own mug.  
Philip had switched on the television in the meantime.  
He didn't linger on the news channel, not in the mood for current events. That was work. He wanted to have a nice time with his team.  
He settled on a nature documentary.  
It was their favourite thing to watch together. Nothing was more hopeful than seeing the wonders of this world long gone, that they got to experience against all odds.  
Carefully balancing her mug, Marcy slid under the blankets on Philip's other side.  
Philip let himself slide down a little further into the couch, letting the coffee warm his hands and Marcy and Trevor warm his sides.  
He drank deeply, as the screen in front of them filled with a herd of antelopes. 

It felt like no time at all had passed, when their peace was interrupted by an almighty yawn.  
Carly had apparently finished her research, stretching her arms above her head, before getting up and stretching her legs as well.  
She picked up her untouched coffee and made her way over to them.  
“She lives!” she declared, seemingly in a much better mood now. “Hi, all”.  
They mumbled acknowledgements, not taking their eyes off the lion cubs now on screen.  
They looked up when Carly started laughing.  
“Oh dear, what did you do to Trevor? He looks like someone peed in his drink”, she wiped an imaginary tear from her eye.  
“Don't give her ideas”, Trevor replied darkly, but he couldn't keep a straight face, breaking out into a toothy smile.  
Carly nodded in understanding. “The coffee thing again, huh? Oh Marce, you're so harsh. Never change.”  
Marcy didn't give them the satisfaction of rising to the bait.  
She took a dainty sip from her mug and told them in a casual tone: “I mean, of course I wouldn't expect you to be aware of the recommendations of the american health organization here in the 21st century or the longtime detrimental effects of caffeeine consumption in teenagers that have been more than proven in the centuries since. After all, that's why you have me. So I can simply tell you these things, free of charge”  
She wrinkled her nose.  
“It sure would be nice if you listened to me sometime. But hey. What do I know. I'm just your doctor, right. I only studied this stuff for years.”  
“So salty”, Trevor muttered under his breath. Disturbingly good at 21st century slang these days. Philip grinned.  
“Awww” Carly said. “Yes, poor you indeed.” she leaned down and gave Marcy an apologetic peck on the cheek. “Having to put up with us horrible, horrible people.” She dipped down and dropped another kiss, directly on Marcy's lips. “You're a saint, really”. She smiled down on Marcy, who had closed her eyes and looked a little breathless.  
A cough from Trevor startled her out of her reverie. A light blush crept over her cheeks.  
She cleared her throat.  
“Um. Yes. Thanks for your service. We appreciate it.”, with a last little kiss on Marcy's nose, Carly retreated.  
Marcy was looking a little glassy eyed. The indignation was gone. She seemed quite pleased now.  
Philip and Trevor shared a look. Slightly uncomfortable, slightly charmed.  
It was like watching your parents flirt. 

Carly returned, waving a bag of mini marshmallows.  
“I come bearing gifts”, she declared.  
She dropped a handful of them into Trevor's mug, over slight protests from Marcy about the sugar content. “Just let him have this, okay?”  
Marcy piped down.  
Carly dropped the rest of the bag on Philip's lap.  
“Never say I gave you nothing, kiddo.” she said, ruffling his hair. Philip stuck his tongue out at her.  
Carly squeezed in next to Marcy, under approximately 2 square inches of the blanket.  
Marcy wiggled around, trying to give Carly more of the blanket, but she only succeeded in disturbing the balance of the bag of marshmallows.  
“It's cool, don't worry about it”. Carly pressed a quick kiss to Marcy's temple.  
Philip glanced over to them. They were both glowing with happiness, tangled up in each other.  
It was nice.  
On his other side, Trevor was looking at the melting marshmallows in his mug with something akin to love.  
It was...a lot.  
Philip picked up a marshmallow that had fallen on the blanket and dropped it into Trevor's mug.  
Trevor's smile in return was blinding.  
Philip's heart skipped a beat.  
Oh, no.  
This was unfortunate.


End file.
